


Brave New World

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-10
Updated: 2007-05-10
Packaged: 2019-01-19 02:57:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12401673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Loving him was courting heartbreak. [In the brave new world of the year 2000, a kiss can still break your heart. G/D. One shot.]





	Brave New World

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

Quote is from Cirque du Soliel.

in the **brave new world** of the year 2000,  
a kiss can s t i l l _break_ your  
 **( heart )**  


It wasn't supposed to happen, the first time. Not in any way, shape or form, because she was supposed to be in love-love with -----, and not him. He was nothing to her. Couldn't be anything, because there was someone else, would always be someone else, and she was no heart-breaker, no, not her.

So the first time was... an accident. And it was his initiation, anyway. On impulse, he just leaned over and kissed her, right on the lips, and she turned red as her hair, panicky and worried and annoyed and a teeny bit _exhilarated_. He laughed when he saw her reaction and made some snarky comment about how great a kisser he must be and she slapped him, and then her brother came by and only sort of saved the day, because the damsel wasn't really sure she was in distress.

Her brother thought she was angry, which was good, because it gave her an excuse to look like the setting sun.

\--

The second time was only a little more intentional than the first, and only then because she didn't slap him for it. Considered it, but didn't actually hit him. She was being clumsy (because she was always clumsy, because it must have been in her bones or something) and tripped on the stairs, and he was there right at the bottom.

Only he didn't catch her like the Knight In Shining Armor she wanted him to be. He stood there and watched her faceplant the stone floor and laughed, then told her that she should probably watch her step because little weasels might get stepped on if they spend too much time on the ground. And she stood up as fast as she could gain her balance (which was, unfortunately, not very), turning red again and ready to scream at him. She only got the first few words of her rant out.

"Why you little -"

And then he kissed her. Again, right on the lips, and again, she thought she was going to die. He laughed (again) and said that he must have found the perfect way to shut loud little Ginny Weasley up.  
 __  
That was why she slapped him.

\--

And then there was the time when she was drunk behind the greenhouses, because ----- wasn't around.

\--

And then when she wasn't drunk, but pretended she was.

\--

And then when she stopped pretending.

\--

It felt like a sin. The entire affair, like she was breaking some sort of huge moral law (which she _was_ , because what kind of woman cheats on a guy like - ) and for some horrible, inexplicable reason, that made it even more fun. She hated herself, deep down, for it (for all of it), but there was no changing actions that had already been and were already set in stone.

She was at the Library, or in the Kitchens, or going out for a walk, or stargazing, or being alone which were all code for "Ginny's doing something she shouldn't" but no one seemed to notice, or even particularly care. So she felt vindicated. If they wouldn't notice the flashing lights, then she may as well hide behind them. Whatever worked, whatever kept her sins hidden, whatever salvaged any breaking hearts. She didn't want to face it, but more than that, she didn't want to make them face it.

So it was a secret, a clandestine affair in the shadows and starlight, hidden (because all crimes, no matter how small, are damning).

And she felt alive, strangely, somehow fresher and freer than she had ever been. That sort of haunted her, somewhere in the back of her mind, a shadow telling her that all was not well, and this could only end badly. He wasn't the sort of person her parents would approve of (the very idea of taking him to meet her parents was ludicrous; they'd disown her immediately. Or, well, ground her for the rest of her natural life and force her to become a nun). And besides, he probably had a life expectancy of around 19. Loving him was courting heartbreak.

\--

She couldn't cry for him. For what he'd done, of course. For what he'd done to her, more so. But for him? For the way he had vanished and disappeared and was _gone without a trace_ and without even a goodbye (and certainly not a goodbye kiss)? No. She couldn't be seen to cry over a failed Death Eater sixth year without a chance of surviving.

So she told them she was crying over Dumbledore (which she was, of course, when she wasn't crying for him), and hugged ----- because he was there and he was a shoulder to lean on and she felt so terrible for taking advantage of him like that.

She thought that she might break it off, maybe end it before she caused anyone any more grief, but she wasn't sure her fragile heart could take another beating.

And then ----- did it for her, which was both relieving and painful, and she refused to admit either.

\--

Later, she remembers thinking that someday, when she's happily married to _him_ and having millions of green-eyed, red-haired children, that she will name one of them Draco, and that someday, she will have the courage to tell the story. Or maybe not. Maybe she'll jealously guard her secret until the day she dies, hoarding her heart and never telling the truth.

\--

He showed up at her doorstep not long before the highly anticipated final battle. When she opened the door, it was raining, storming, really, and she offered to, maybe, give him a change of clothes. But he refused to go inside, making some disdainful comment about the man in there with her (which, of course, Mum and Dad never approved of) and she almost - almost - hit him.

Because she had almost convinced herself that she had never loved him.

He stood at the door for a long moment, staring mournfully at her until she felt terribly uncomfortable, and then looked her straight in the eye and said simply, "I'll be dead by this time tomorrow" like it was a fact, like everyone knew it, like he knew something no one else did. She was silent for a full minute.

And then she shut the door in his face, and never quite managed to forgive herself for it.

\--

He died with her name on his lips, and she decided that she would never tell.


End file.
